Mischief Not Quite Managed
by DARecruit
Summary: Set during HBP.  What would have happened if Mrs. Weasley had found out where the trio had gone off to when they were supposed to be in Fred and George's joke shop.  WARNING: Spanking of teens.  Don't like, don't read.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Harry Potter. They belong to the beautifully talented J.K. Rowling. ****Also, this story contains discipline spankings of teenagers. If that's not your thing, please do not continue reading. **

**Author's Note: I've had the idea for this story running around my head for a while now. I'm stuck on my other story currently, so I thought this would be a nice change of pace. This was originally going to be a one shot, but it became a bit too long, so it will be at least two chapters (possibly three). But I do not plan to continue the story after that. I hope you enjoy it. =) **

_"Mischief Not Quite Managed"_

Mrs. Weasley's heart began to race. She had looked everywhere, and there was no sign of any of them. _Oh, just wait till I get my hands on them_, she thought darkly, making her rounds again.

"Fred, George, have you seen Harry, Ron, and Hermione? I can't find them anywhere!" she asked her twins.

"Not since we told ickle Ronnie to put our stuff back. Imagine, he was trying to get away with not buying any of it!" Fred said.

"Maybe they're in the back room, Mum. Have you checked there?" George added.

"Twice. But I'll look again."

Mrs. Weasley had just taken another peek in the back room when Hagrid had called her.

"Where 'ave you lot bin? We've bin lookin' all over for yeh!" Hagrid scolded as Molly walked over.

"Yes, where _have_ you been?" Mrs. Weasley asked, her tone icy.

"We were in the back, Mum," Ron said, though Molly noticed he was shifting his weight nervously.

"Are you sure you looked properly, Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione asked politely.

"Yeah, Mrs. Weasley, we were just—"

"Do not insult my intelligence, you three! I have been scouring this entire store looking for you! Do not tell me I simply overlooked you!" Mrs. Weasley scolded. She knew they were up to something, and she wasn't going to let it pass. The three teenagers began to spout more excuses, but Molly Weasley would have none of it.

"Enough! We are going home now. You have until that time to tell me the truth; otherwise, it will be that much worse for you all," she said, wagging her finger at each of them.

* * *

Mrs. Weasley ordered the three into the den and made them sit next to each other on the sofa. She then crossed her arms and glared at them, waiting. In the end, it was Hermione who finally came clean and told Mrs. Weasley everything. Hermione was terrified of Mrs. Weasley at this moment, but more importantly, she respected the plump mother of seven. She knew they weren't going to get away with what they had done; Mrs. Weasley had raised Fred and George, after all. She knew all the tricks.

"I am extremely disappointed in all of you," Mrs. Weasley scolded.

"Mrs. Weasley, please, it was my fault. Don't blame Ron and Hermione, they didn't do anything wrong," Harry said, hanging his head.

"Harry, don't be stupid! We're just as much to blame!" Hermione argued.

"You wouldn't have gone if I hadn't made you follow me! I could have gone alone," Harry retorted.

"You didn't _make_ us do anything, Harry Potter! We're your friends! We'll stick with you no matter what! We followed because we love you, and you won't ever be alone!" Hermione said, tears brimming in her eyes. Harry could just be so stupid sometimes, and it made her want to scream!

"Hermione's right, mate," Ron said, turning pink. It was the only thing he could say; he wasn't great with talking about his feelings.

Harry looked at his friends and felt a wave of love and gratitude wash over him. They had stuck by him for six years now, and he knew they loved him, but he still wasn't used to having people he could depend on, no matter what. He kept expecting the ball to drop and for them to wise up and realize they were better off without him. Harry could feel a lump forming in his throat and couldn't make himself say what he really wanted to, that he loved them too.

"Alright, listen up!" Mrs. Weasley said, grabbing the kids' attention again. "Firstly, I am forever grateful that Ron has found such good friends as you, Hermione and Harry. You two are as good as my own children and I love you both. And I'm glad that you all stick together and support one another. That's important, especially now. But, you three made a horrible decision today. I didn't think I needed to remind you of the seriousness we're facing right now, but clearly I was wrong. You-Know-Who is back, and it is dangerous for you lot to be wandering around alone! Especially you, Harry!"

The three teenagers were all squirming uncomfortably from the scolding. Hermione was crying softly to herself, and the boys looked like they weren't far off. Mrs. Weasley continued.

"I would never forgive myself if something ever happened to any of you. I'm upset with all of you, for deliberately disobeying and putting yourselves in needless danger. And for what? To see what a classmate was up to? Was it worth it?"

"But Mrs. Weasley, Malfoy _is_ up to something!" Harry said.

"That may be, but it's really none of your concern, Harry! You need to learn to keep your head down and don't concern yourself with _things that don't concern you_!" Mrs. Weasley chided. Harry looked like he was about to argue, so Mrs. Weasley cut him off.

"Do you three agree that what you did today was wrong?" she asked. Hermione was the first to nod her head, followed by Ron.

Harry looked at his friends and felt guilty. He sighed and said, "I know I was wrong, Mrs. Weasley, but I still don't think you should be angry with Ron and Hermione."

"They could have stopped you, or went to get Hagrid, but they didn't. They chose to go along with you, so they are in the wrong as well," Mrs. Weasley said simply.

"But, Mrs. Weasley—"

"I've said my peace, and you three know what you did was wrong and why. Now, I'm sorry, but I have to punish you. Accio slipper!" Mrs. Weasley said, catching the worn leather-soled slipper that flew to her.

"Mum, no! Please, not that!" Ron begged, his eyes going wide with fear. He had a feeling this was coming, but he had been hoping it wouldn't. He hated that slipper, even more than his mother's wooden hairbrush. It never failed to turn him into a blubbering mess.

"No arguments from you, Ronald Weasley, unless you want to take a trip out to the shed with your father afterwards!" Mrs. Weasley warned. Ron shut up immediately. As much as he hated the slipper, it was nowhere near as much as he dreaded the trip to the shed. He had only been taken out there once, forced to bend over a workbench as his father whipped his bare arse with his belt for what felt like ages. Once was enough for a lifetime.

"Boys, pick a corner and put your nose in it. Hermione, you're first," Mrs. Weasley said, moving a straight-backed chair to the middle of the room. The boys immediately went to stand in two corners, their noses practically touching the walls. Hermione gulped and shakily stood, making her way uneasily to Mrs. Weasley's side.

"Pants down, Hermione," Mrs. Weasley ordered, her voice firm, but gentle. Hermione visibly paled and turned uncertainly towards the boys.

"They won't look dear, unless they have no concern for their bottoms," Mrs. Weasley said, making sure the boys heard her. Hermione nodded.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley," the girl all but whispered. Still, she obediently unzipped her pants and slid them down to her knees. Hermione could feel her face turning red, and she desperately wanted this all to be over quickly.

Sensing Hermione's discomfort, Mrs. Weasley guided the girl over her lap. Hermione wrapped her fingers around the chair legs and prepared herself for what was to come.

Mrs. Weasley took a moment to shift Hermione in the best position in terms of the girl's comfort as well as for her aim. She then quickly took Hermione's underwear down to her knees. Hermione gasped as she felt herself being bared and squeezed her eyes shut.

Mrs. Weasley took a deep breath before lifting the slipper. Exhaling slowly, she brought the slipper down in the middle of Hermione's bottom. She saw Hermione's milky skin turn a slight pink where the slipper had landed, and raised her arm again. Hermione winced when the first blow landed and sucked in her breath. The slipper stung more than a hand would, but not as much as a hairbrush.

The second landed in much the same spot as the first. "Ow!" Hermione cried out, unable to help herself.

Mrs. Weasley began to methodically cover the girl's bottom, from the very fullest parts down to the sit-spots and start of thighs. Having raised seven children, Mrs. Weasley was a skilled spanker. She knew how to make a child's bottom feel well punished without leaving harmful bruises.

Hermione's bottom was beginning to burn, and it took all of her self-control not to reach back to protect herself. "Ow! Ow! Ouch! Mrs. Weasley, I-I'm—ouch!—so s-sorry! Ow!" Hermione cried.

"I know you are, dear," was all Mrs. Weasley said as she continued the spanking. She was on number eighteen now. Hermione was crying steadily, and her bottom was by now a bright pink, so Mrs. Weasley increased the strength of the spanks slightly. She believed in giving a child twice as many spanks as their age, as well as spanking just hard enough to get them to completely let go and sob their hearts out. She wasn't cruel and did not like to hear them cry, but she knew it was important for them to feel sufficiently punished and have a good cry in order to let go of their guilt and feel completely forgiven.

Mrs. Weasley administered the next eight spanks all to Hermione's sit-spots, and they were probably the hardest so far. Hermione cries turned to sobs.

"OW! Ouch! Please Mrs. Weasley, not so—OW! OW!—so—AH!—h-hard—Ouch! Ouch! Ow!"

Mrs. Weasley's heart broke to hear Hermione crying so, but she knew it was what the girl needed. "Almost over, Hermione," she said as she brought the slipper down for the twenty-seventh time.

"OWWWW!" Hermione cried. She was sobbing uncontrollably and she wanted nothing more than for this punishment to be over. She had lost count of how many times Mrs. Weasley had hit her, but she knew it was now more than two-dozen.

"Please, Mrs. Weasley, please—OW!—stop! I-I've learned my—Ow!—lesson! Ouch! I-I'm sooooooorry!"

Mrs. Weasley landed numbers thirty-one-and-two quickly, wanting to end Hermione's punishment as fast as she could. The girl's bottom was now a dark red color, and while Mrs. Weasley was sure it throbbed now, she also knew it would have no lasting effects.

"Shhh, it's all over now, Hermione," she said in a soothing voice as she carefully replaced Hermione's knickers to their proper place. Just as she would with any of her biological children, Mrs. Weasley began to rub small circles in the girl's back in an effort to help her calm down.

"You may get up whenever you are ready, dear," Mrs. Weasley said several moments later, her hand still rubbing Hermione's back.

Hermione sighed. She was still crying, but less so now. Her bottom ached, but her conscience felt ten times better. Mrs. Weasley's scolding had gotten to Hermione and made her feel horrible about her actions. She had been naughty and been punished for it, for which she was grateful. It was a swift, not to mention painful, way of dealing with her misbehavior. But now it was over and Hermione no longer felt guilty. Besides, it was nothing worse than what her own mother would have done in the same situation. Smiling, Hermione realized she had _two_ mothers who loved her enough to make sure she grew into a responsible young woman.

Hermione began to push herself up, and Mrs. Weasley immediately helped her stand. She noticed that the girl was smiling slightly as she pulled her pants up.

As soon as Hermione finished redressing, she threw her arms around Mrs. Weasley. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley, for treating me like a daughter," she whispered into the maternal ear.

Molly Weasley wasn't prepared to hear that from Hermione, but she was touched. She felt the tears welling up and hugged the girl back tightly, landing a wet kiss to her cheek in the process. Pulling back so she could look the girl in the eyes, she said, "You're as good as one, Hermione. I love you. But if you ever do something like this again, I won't hesitate to put you over my knee."

Smiling, Hermione nodded her head. "I know, Mrs. Weasley. And I'm sorry for worrying you today," she said, casting her eyes down for a moment.

"All forgiven, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, reaching out to caress Hermione's cheek once. "Now, change places with Harry."


	2. Chapter 2

Harry's heart was beating very fast. Part of him was glad that he wasn't the first to be smacked, but the other—and much bigger—part felt absolutely terrible. He truly felt that he should be the only one getting smacked. It had been his idea to follow Draco Malfoy. True, neither of the others had really tried to stop him or even argue with him, but it was still his fault they were all in trouble now. It was _always_ his fault.

Harry heard Mrs. Weasley tell Hermione to drop her pants, and he gulped. He was about to turn around and come to Hermione's rescue (surely Hermione didn't need to pull down her pants in order for Mrs. Weasley to make an impression on her?) when he heard Mrs. Weasley's declaration that they, the boys, would not look if they valued their bottoms. Upon hearing that, Harry decided he'd better stay put, for both his and Hermione's sake.

He jumped when he heard the first smack and then winced as he heard another seconds later, followed by Hermione's cry. Mrs. Weasley began to hit Hermione in a steady rhythm. Harry heard the sharp smack of the slipper on Hermione's poor bum, followed almost immediately by her cry of pain. It was almost too much for Harry to take; he soon found himself crying quietly.

"Please be over soon, please be over soon, please," Harry repeated over and over. It began to be almost a sort of chant. He heard Hermione crying and apologizing, and prayed that Mrs. Weasley would stop already. But no matter how much Hermione cried or how many times Harry chanted his wish for it to be over, the slipper continued to fall.

"OW! Ouch! Please Mrs. Weasley, not so—OW! OW!—so—AH!—h-hard—Ouch! Ouch! Ow!" Hermione cried, and Harry's heart ached for her. He hated hearing her cry, and now Mrs. Weasley was hitting her too hard. Harry found himself becoming angry with Mrs. Weasley. She was taking it too far.

Harry was half turned away from the wall when he heard Mrs. Weasley say it was almost over. He heard the hurt in her voice, like it was painful for her to cause Hermione any discomfort. But that was what she had planned, didn't she, in spanking them? To hurt them?

"Please, Mrs. Weasley, please—OW!—stop! I-I've learned my—Ow!—lesson! Ouch! I-I'm sooooooorry!" Hermione yelped.

Again Harry felt his anger rising as Mrs. Weasley landed two more swats after that. How could Mrs. Weasley still spank Hermione after she had begged Mrs. Weasley to stop? But then a moment later he heard Mrs. Weasley speak. "Shhh, it's all over now, Hermione," she said in a gentle voice. Harry could have sworn he heard a change in Hermione's crying. Before it had been cries of pain, but now, it almost sounded as if they were tears of relief.

It all didn't make much sense to Harry, who had never been smacked before. His aunt and uncle never gave him so much as a warning spank. If they hit him, they preferred to do it upside his head, before dragging him to his cupboard—or as the case was now, his bedroom—and throwing him inside. They would then leave him there for days, refusing to feed him until they felt he had learned his lesson.

Harry continued to ponder it all when he suddenly heard Mrs. Weasley tell Hermione to change places with him.

Harry's mouth went dry and his heart felt like it was about to pound out of his chest. _It's just a spanking! Calm down, you've been through much worse!_ he scolded himself. It was true; Harry had been through so much worse than a little spanking. He had had his arm broken in second year, and then had to go through the painful process of re-growing his bones after the idiot Lockhart had removed them all. He had to battle dementors and dragons. And how many times had he fought Voldemort now? Yet here he was, The Boy Who Lived, trembling from head to toe because he was about to be spanked.

Hermione tapped his shoulder, and Harry couldn't help but jump. She gave him a sheepish smile and grabbed his hand for a moment, squeezing gently. Harry squeezed back. He was grateful for her support, even if he couldn't tell her.

"Harry," Mrs. Weasley called. Harry met her eyes and nodded once. With one more squeeze to Hermione's hand, Harry let go and made his way to Mrs. Weasley's side.

Mrs. Weasley noticed that Harry looked absolutely frightened. Not wanting to scare him, she leaned forward and took his hand, pulling him closer. Harry tensed.

"Harry dear, have you ever been spanked before?" Mrs. Weasley said just loud enough for Harry to hear. The boy shook his head. "I promise it won't be nearly as bad as you're imaging. Pants down."

Harry fumbled with his jeans, but managed to get them undone. He then slowly lowered them to his knees, waiting for the next step.

Without a word, Mrs. Weasley took Harry's hand and gently pulled him over her lap. Just as she had with Hermione, she made sure Harry was as comfortable as he could be, given the circumstances. She then pulled down his boxers and began the spanking.

Harry was more than a little surprised when Mrs. Weasley pulled down his boxers. He felt extremely vulnerable, not to mention embarrassed. But once the first swat of the slipper came, all thoughts left him.

Mrs. Weasley had already given Harry twelve smacks with the slipper, and aside from the occasional grunt, he was completely silent. She knew that because of everything Harry had been through, he would try to be stoic. He guarded his feelings and seldom let himself cry. For Harry, this had to be as much a therapeutic spanking as it was a disciplinary one. Harry needed to have a good cry; he really had not let himself deal with his pain of losing Sirius. And maybe that was why he was taking risks now. He needed to know he was loved and cared for, and that he had someone who would hold him responsible for his actions.

Wrapping her free arm around Harry's waist and pulling him close, she redoubled her efforts and began spanking much harder than she normally would have. She noticed that after only six hard swats, Harry had begun crying out.

"It's ok to cry, Harry. It's better, actually. No need to keep all those emotions inside," Mrs. Weasley said and she brought the slipper down twice more in the same spot.

"OUCH!" Harry yelped, tears spilling over. From the moment the first swat landed, Harry had decided he was going to stay as quiet as possible. He knew he deserved this spanking. He wasn't going to fight it; he was just going to take what was coming to him. He felt sorry for himself, but felt even worse for putting his friends through this as well. But Mrs. Weasley had started spanking so much harder, and Harry couldn't help but cry out. He lost it completely when she told him it was ok to cry. He didn't normally let himself cry. He needed to be strong—he was the Chosen One. He needed to destroy Voldemort, so he had to be hard. He couldn't be crying. But it was all becoming too much for him, and it felt good to let his tears fall.

"Ow! Ow! Ouch!" Harry yelped. Another smack and he was bawling.

Mrs. Weasley had decreased her strength several spanks ago; she had gotten Harry to start releasing his feelings. There was no reason to continue hitting so hard. He was learning his lesson just fine.

Eight more smacks and Harry's punishment was over. Mrs. Weasley sighed deeply. This was draining her. She did not want to spank her son and his friends, and the old saying was true: this was hurting her much more than it did them.

It took Harry much longer to calm down than it had Hermione, but Mrs. Weasley didn't mind. She would rub his back for as long as it took Harry to compose himself.

Harry didn't care that he was crying like a baby over the lap of his best mate's mother, or even that he was doing so while his two best friends stood in two corners of the room and had heard everything. For the first time in his life (that he could remember), Harry had experienced a mother's love.

Harry didn't know how long he had stayed over Mrs. Weasley's lap, but he finally stood and pulled his jeans back up. Mrs. Weasley then pulled him into a hug. "I love you, Harry dear," she whispered in his ear.

"All right Ronald, your turn," Mrs. Weasley said a moment later.

* * *

Ron had stood quietly in his corner through both of his friends' spankings. He hated every minute that Hermione was getting it. But then, there was this strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He imagined himself rubbing the sting out of her bum for her. Or maybe…Ron quickly shook his head, trying to dislodge _that_ particular thought.

Harry's spanking had been harder to hear. At first, Harry didn't make any sounds, and then, he started bawling. But Ron supposed that was because Harry just felt worse about the whole thing. His mate did have the tendency to hold things in until it was too much for him. Then he would blow up. Ron remembered all too well how Harry would constantly try to chew his and Hermione's heads off last year after being kept in the dark the previous summer.

Harry patted his friend on the shoulder as he took Ron's place in the corner. Ron nodded and made his way to his mother. Without even being asked, Ron took his pants down and then quickly bent over his mother's lap.

Mrs. Weasley said nothing as her youngest son got in the all-too-familiar position. She simply bared his bottom and lifted the slipper.

Ron groaned at the first smack. The next five came down quickly.

"Ow! Ouch! Mum I'm—Ah! Ow!—sorry—Ouch!" he yelped, gritting his teeth. It was no use really; he knew he would soon be crying like a baby over his mother's lap.

By the twelfth smack, Ron was crying steadily. "I expect more from you, Ronald! You will tow the line, young man, or so help me, I'll make this spanking seem like a love pat!"

"No—Ow! Ouch!—Mum, I-I—OW!—will! I'll be—Ow! Ow! Ow!—good!" Ron sobbed, his bottom feeling very punished.

Mrs. Weasley turned her attention to her son's sit-spots, which made Ron howl. "No—OW!—noooo, Mum, not—OW! OW! OWW!—not there—Ow! Ow!—Please!" he bawled.

Mrs. Weasley landed the last eight on the fullest part of Ron's bum, but made sure to hit some places twice in a row for a more lasting impression.

Ron cried the loudest when his mother hit the same spot more than once. But he was glad she had spanked him fairly quickly. He guessed that she was worn out from having to spank three kids in a row, and she had wanted to just get him over with as fast as possible. At least it was all over now. His mother would love him up and he would be forgiven.

After having comforted Ron, Mrs. Weasley called the other two kids out of the corner. When all three children were in front of her, staring at her with puffy red eyes, Mrs. Weasley gave them one last talking to, telling them again how wrong they were and promising another spanking if they did it again. The three stumbled over each other in their assertions that they'd be good and would never do anything of the sort again.

Mrs. Weasley smiled and hugged them all once more before saying, "You three must be tired after all that's happened. Why don't you all go lie down for a bit, and I'll call you when dinner's ready?"

The three friends didn't need to be told twice. They were all tired from their crying, and their bums really did hurt. It would be nice to lie down for a while (on their stomachs, of course) and relax before dinner.

"Oh, one more thing!" Mrs. Weasley called, and the three friends turned back to look at her. "If there's the tiniest bit of trouble from any of you in this last week before school starts, you will be back over my knee for another round with my slipper!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all nodded vigorously and simultaneously reached back to rub the sting out of their very sore bottoms. None of them wanted to find themselves staring at the carpet again any time soon…or ever again!


End file.
